


I have given voice to unspeakable things

by spacehopper



Series: TMA October Prompt Fics [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Body Horror, Hand Jobs, Jon's dick is haunted, Kinktober, M/M, Masturbation, Medical Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mirror Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Sounding, Watching, extracting magnetic tape from somebody's cock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26805121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacehopper/pseuds/spacehopper
Summary: Jon has an unusual medical problem only Elias can help him with. And he does so, gladly.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist
Series: TMA October Prompt Fics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954891
Comments: 10
Kudos: 110





	I have given voice to unspeakable things

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Kinktober as a combo of Day 2 - Sounding and Day 3 - Medicalplay.

Jon toyed with the edge of the plain white sheet, and wondered if he still had time to make a run for it. Not that he thought Elias would hold him here. After all, Jon had been the one to turn up at his door in the first place. If he left, even if Elias noticed, all he’d probably do was give Jon a smug little smile and tell him that if he changed his mind, he could always come back. Just like he’d done when Jon had initially refused his help.

Help. Jon snorted, fingers digging into the edge of the mattress as he tried to keep the sound from morphing into a hysterical laugh. He’d tried to get help, normal help. Gone to a clinic, explained his problems. Too young for most of the more serious causes to be likely, but it didn’t hurt to check, did it? But there’d been nothing. Stress, the doctor had said, trying not to stare at the scars scattered over his skin.

And maybe that was it. Maybe Jon was just here because he couldn’t accept that for once, he had a problem with a perfectly normal cause. His life was incredibly stressful, after all. But he’d also seen the flash of fear in the doctor’s eyes, when he’d noticed the note about the coma. The way his mouth had worked as he’d reach the words, and how eager he’d been to usher Jon out of his office.

He’d wanted Jon gone for the same reasons Jon was here now. Because neither of them truly thought it was stress that knotted tight in Jon’s abdomen. That it was stress that was causing…other issues, ones Jon was mostly happy to ignore, except for how he knew, and yes, _knew_ that it wasn’t just those surface level problems. Even if he couldn’t see exactly what it was.

The door opened, and Jon tensed, staring at Elias warily, noting the rather sizable bag he had clutched under one arm, and the glass of whiskey clutched in his hand.

“I hope you don’t plan on drinking,” Jon said, as Elias set the glass down on the small table next to him, and set the bag on the bed.

“No, it’s for you. I thought it might help you relax. This will be infinitely easier if you do.”

He opened the bag, pulling out a black zippered case, a box of latex gloves, and a bottle of—good lord—lube.

“Elias, what exactly do you plan on doing?” His voice cracked, and his hands tightened on the edge of the bed. But he supposed he couldn’t be that surprised. After all, given the intimate area of his problem, it did unfortunately make sense that it might be needed. Before Elias could answer, Jon grabbed the whiskey off the table and knocked it back. Elias was right; he needed the help relaxing.

“An examination,” Elias said, as he unbuttoned his cuffs and rolled his sleeves up. “Please remove your trousers and underwear. You can keep your shirt on if you’d prefer.”

Jon stayed where he was, clutching the glass tightly and wishing he hadn’t drank it all. Or that Elias had at least brought the overpriced bottle it came from with him.

“Why exactly do I need to do that?”

Elias raised his eyebrows at Jon, eyes drifting pointedly to Jon’s groin.

“I would think that the reason is fairly obvious.”

Jon flushed, but forced himself to meet Elias’s bland gaze.

“You can’t just see? Because if not, I might as well go to a proper doctor.”

Elias laughed softly, and pulled on a pair of latex gloves.

“We both know you already did, and that they couldn’t help you. Or you wouldn’t be here.”

Christ, Jon hated that he was right. He set the glass reluctantly back on the table, and got to his feet. Keeping his eye on the floor as he quickly removed his trousers, folding them and setting them on the bed, followed by his underwear. This could hardly be worse than anything that had already happened to him, and well…at least he was fairly confident Elias didn’t want him dead.

He did leave his shirt on, and his socks. As absurd as it sounded, having that little bit of clothing left made this feel slightly more professional. And it helped with any chill, though Elias kept his flat fairly warm. Or perhaps he’d warmed it up for Jon, a thought that led down a path he preferred not to tread.

“Sit down at the corner of the bed,” Elias said, his expression remaining infuriatingly neutral.

“Is this acceptable?” Jon said, crossing his arms over his chest so that he could resist covering his groin.

“Perfect,” Elias said, giving him a tight smile and stepping closer, his hands stopping mere inches from Jon’s cock. “May I?”

Jon swallowed hard, torn between wanting to close his eyes so he could pretend for a moment it wasn’t Elias here, touching him like this, and not daring to look away. The latter won out in the end, as he gave Elias a stiff nod, and forced his gaze down to his own cock.

His teeth dug into his lip as Elias ran a light finger along it, in a way Jon felt wasn’t strictly clinical, but he could hardly question it, could he? It wasn’t technically a proper examination, given he was essentially asking Elias to check for—ghosts, haunting, and oh God, there was no way to phrase it that didn’t sound absurd, was there?

Elias’s grip tightened around it, squeezing slightly, dragging his palm along it. He made a soft hmm, and turned back to his tray to reach for the bottle of lube.

“What are you doing?” Jon said, voice going high. “Did you find something?”

“Perhaps. I need to test a theory. You said you’ve seen signs of a blockage, correct?” He squirted a generous quantity of lube out, and spread it across his palm.

“I—” Clamming up now was only going to make it last longer, damn it. “Yes. Inconsistently, and some pain as well. But they couldn’t find anything on the scans.”

“No, they wouldn’t.” Elias’s hand was back around his cock, sliding up by the length much more easily now, without the resistance of the dry latex. Jon’s breath caught, and his cock twitched. He scrambled for any explanation for what Elias was doing, anything that wasn’t exactly what seemed to be happening.

“Why wouldn’t they? And what—ah.” Elias gripped Jon’s foreskin between two fingers of his unlubed hand, sliding it back to toy with the head. “What are you doing?”

“Really, Jon?” He continued to stroke along the shaft with one hand, all while teasing the head, and even as oddly clinical as it was, it was pure physiology in the end. Jon’s cock was slowly filling, heat building with each touch of Elias’s hands. “I’d hope it was fairly obvious.”

“Why, then?” Jon said, one of his arms going back to hold him steady on the bed, while he brought the other to his face to muffle the sounds Elias was drawing from him.

“I have a theory, but I need a way to check how the blockage works myself. This seems the most expedient way to do so.” His grip had grown tighter, working the shaft while he continued to gently stroke the head, sliding, dragging along the foreskin and lingering along the sensitive nerves on the underside.

“Fine,” Jon said, as if this were a discussion. As if he hadn’t already basically agreed to this all the second he’d removed his trousers, or no, the second he’d walked through the door. Who else was he going to ask, for something like this? “Just—hurry up.”

“I believe that’s more on you than me,” Elias said, his voice deepening. “But I’ll do my best. Please, lie down.”

Jon bit back the instinctive urge to argue, only partly because he wasn’t certain the protest wouldn’t have emerged as another needy moan. Because Elias hadn’t stopped stroking, even as he calmly waited for Jon to obey his command. And Christ, Jon was going to, wasn’t he?

Lying down gave him another unpleasant shock, as he realized what exactly Elias had for a ceiling.

“A mirror? Seriously? You cannot be more—” He moaned, and clamped his hand back over his mouth. Better not to say anything at all, than to give Elias the satisfaction of knowing his ‘examination’ was working as intended.

Not that denying him sound was doing that anyway. Jon was fully hard now, even as Elias removed his hand from Jon’s shaft, sliding back to squeeze and caress his balls while he continued to tease the head. And Jon could see it all in excruciating detail, long fingered hands pulled at him, toying with him as he struggled, desperate and flushed, against something he knew he’d already given into.

It didn’t take long for him to come like that, unable to look away as Elias stroked him through it, head bowed over his cock as the come dribbled out. He prodded at the slit, as Jon bit down on his hand, heat coursing through him and pain throbbing low in his abdomen. “Elias, please—” Not sure what he wasn’t asking, whether he wanted Elias to stop or keep at it, as he slowly came down from the sharpened edge of his orgasm.

“Shh, Jon. I think I can help.” Elias finally let him go, as Jon sucked desperate breaths through his nose, watching him in the mirror above. The gloves came off, tossed into a bin. Elias walked into the en suite, returning with a bowl of soapy water and a washcloth, and began to clean Jon up as he whimpered.

“You think?” Jon said, voice going high with incredulity. “I can’t—you can’t just—”

“Shh,” Elias said again, stroking along the inside of his thigh, his other hand pressing down on Jon’s chest as he tried to sit up. “I’ll admit, I’m finding this situation all rather unexpected. And yes, Jon, that means I still don’t know the exact cause of your problem. But I believe the next stage of the examination might prove quite revealing.”

It would be then, as Elias turned back to the table, that Jon suddenly knew all too well what Elias meant. The sudden certainty that there was something inside him settled over his mind. Something Elias intended to try and remove, to allow passage through the application of long and not slender enough pieces of metal, penetrating a part of Jon he was quite certain was not meant for that.

“Absolutely not,” Jon said, getting to his feet before Elias could stop him, snatching up his trousers and trying to put them on. He was shaking, missing the leg hole and getting his foot caught, sending him careening into the bed. Elias approached him, hands now bare as Jon struggled to his feet, backing into the bedside table and sending the lamp crashing to the floor.

He winced at the impact, but held his ground. So did Elias, to his surprise, remaining a few feet away, his hand held out palm up.

“I won’t force you to go through with this, Jon. And if it makes you feel better, I suspect that if you leave, this won’t kill you. Even if it becomes increasingly…unpleasant, as things proceed.” He took a half-step closer, hand still held out. “All I intend to do is make the process easier. There’s no point in you suffering pointlessly.”

“Oh, yes. You only want me to suffer when it serves some purpose.”

“Quite,” Elias said, his face impassive.

Jon should leave. However unpleasant whatever this was turned out to be, some horrible monster emerging inside him, or—or God, he didn’t even want to think about it. Couldn’t think about it, pulling himself back from the edge of terror that might yet reveal exactly what he’d face, if he refused Elias’s help.

“Fine,” Jon said, sounding more sure than he felt as he placed his hand in Elias’s, and let him draw Jon back to the corner of the bed. Settling him there, lying down with his socked feet dangling over the edge. He stared up at his reflection, straightening his shirt and unbuttoning the top button as he tried to ignore the soft sounds of Elias preparing his—his tools, Jon supposed. Torture implements, more like, even if that thought came with the trickle of knowledge that they were used in medical procedures. But he didn’t think that was why Elias had them, or why he had any idea how to use them.

The last thought made Jon open his mouth as Elias turned back to him, wearing a new pair of gloves and holding a syringe in one hand.

“What’s that for?” Jon said, voice rising with a new wave of panic. The tip seemed far too large and not nearly sharp enough to allow injection, but that only brought up even more unpleasant implications.

“Lubrication,” Elias said, gripping Jon’s flaccid cock in one hand, drawing back the foreskin and rubbing a glob of lube across the slit. Jon kept his eyes locked on the mirror, able to view the proceedings in terrible detail as Elias lined up the tip of the syringe, and pushed down the plunger with his thumb.

“Oh God,” Jon said, throwing his arm over his face, struggling against the strange sensation of his cock being filled in entirely the wrong way. His free hand flexed against the sheets while his breath came in sharp pants, and Elias stroked gently along his thigh, cock still held in one hand.

After a minute, the sensation seemed to pass, or maybe Jon was simply growing used to it. Not that he wanted to get used to it, but it wasn’t like this wouldn’t get so much worse yet, as he adjusted his arm so it was covering his mouth, leaving him with a full view of the mirror again. Just in time to see the metal rod Elias was now holding, and how he was positioning it far too close to Jon’s cock.

“That can’t possibly fit,” Jon said feebly, as Elias adjusted the angle of his cock, holding it vertical as he smeared more lube over the slit, and lined up the sound. “And why—” He already regretted asking, even as Elias stopped, and all too politely waited for him to finish. “Why is it hooked at the end?”

“Because of the curve of the urethra, Jon.” For some reason, that only made it worse. Like he’d been hoping the answer would be that eldritch monsters preferred hooks, or that it had some sort of spooky resonance with whatever was wrong with Jon. “And it’s better to use the largest size possible, to avoid undue…piercing.”

He gave Jon a small smile. From a proper doctor, Jon might’ve assumed that was comfort. But given who it was, he couldn’t help but think that under other circumstances, Elias might be far more comfortable with piercing than he’d like.

Best not to think about, though. Just breathe, and let Elias get on with it. The sooner he did, the sooner Jon could leave and try to forget any of this had ever happened.

“Right. Right, just—just get on with it.”

“As you wish,” Elias said, a hint of eagerness creeping into his voice. Jon might’ve commented on it, but anything he would’ve said was cut off at the sudden shock of unfamiliar sensation, as Elias began to slip the sound inside.

It was hard to tell precisely, looking in the mirror, his view from above rather than from the side. But it looked like the sound had only entered a short distance, maybe an inch.

“Is that it?”

Elias let out a low laugh that made Jon want to squirm. An impulse he immediately quashed, given the rather vulnerable position he had Jon in.

“Not quite. Is there any pain?”

Jon took a shaky breath, trying to collect himself, to assess the sensation. Part of him wanted to snap that yes, of course it hurt. It was a length of metal being inserted into his cock. But the truth was that as strange as it felt, to have something so solid inside, it was at most slightly uncomfortable. Which he supposed was for the best, given this very much seemed to only be the beginning.

“No. Would you stop if there was?”

“Yes.” The answer surprised Jon, though he supposed Elias had made clear more than once that whatever his general intentions towards Jon, there wasn’t any malice in this. And well…as much as Elias’s help had tended to be a double-edged sword, he’d never harmed Jon directly, had he?

“Shall I continue?” Elias asked.

“No going back now, I suppose. Yes, do it.”

His fingers tightened on the sheets in anticipation, and his arm went back over his mouth. However undignified this was, he’d prefer if Elias didn’t hear more than he had to, as Jon breathed hard into his sleeve.

The sound continued to slide in all too easily, guided but not pushed by Elias’s hand. And Jon had to admit, even as strange and overwhelming as it felt, how bizarre it was to watch, he couldn’t help but find it a bit fascinating. Watching as his body accepted it so easily, the length extending beyond his cock even, and still more to go.

Elias adjusted the angle of Jon’s cock, bringing it closer to the bed, and the sound continued to slip in, disappearing slowly into Jon as Elias raised his cock again to the previous position.

It was only by chance that Jon noticed the slight change in Elias’s expression, the quirk of his lips as he tightened his fingers on the handle. Then he pressed in, and Jon was flooded with sensation.

“Fuck.” The word was muffled by his arm, but clearly Elias heard it, his smile widening as he pulled the sound out a bit, before letting it slide back in, hitting what had to be Jon’s prostate again. This time, he couldn’t stop himself, hips lifting slightly to see that sensation.

“Stop.” A surprisingly strong hand gripped his hip, holding him in place. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Elias, please,” Jon said, struggling against the hold, not even caring how pathetic he sounded. Did it always feel that good, or was it because of whatever else was inside him?

“I don’t believe this will be sufficient,” Elias said, brow furrowing as he looked down at Elias’s cock. “And you need to control yourself, Jon. An erection will make this harder.”

“Seriously?” Jon said, craning his head to try and get a good look at Elias. Who was, damn him, smiling at his own awful pun. He let his head flop back down, breathing through his nose and trying to remain calm. Unaroused. Completely disinterested in Elias slowly reversing the process, and removing the sound from his cock.

He set the sound down, removed his gloves, and then wrote something down in a small notebook Jon had missed before.

“What’s that?” Jon said, lifting himself up on his elbows and trying to focus on Elias, and not the way his cock had gone half-hard between his legs. Focusing on it would only make it worse, and unfortunately there was no reason to believe Elias was lying when he said an erection would make this, well, harder.

“A notebook.” When Jon gave him a flat look, he added, “I’m recording the diameters, in case this needs to be repeated in the future.”

“Repeated?” Jon asked, incredulous. “There is—no.” He shook his head, not that it mattered with Elias’s back now to him. “Absolutely not.”

“Depending on how this goes,” Elias said, turning back to him with a new pair of gloves and a filled syringe in his hand, “I might not be able to achieve the necessary diameter in one session.”

“Good lord.” Jon flopped back on the bed, stomach churning at the thought. At least that should deal with his erection. Though when he squinted up at the mirrored ceiling, it seemed to remain stubbornly at half-mast. “What exactly are you expecting to find? And don’t say you’re not certain. I don’t believe you.”

“I’ve told you more than once Jon, I’m not omniscient,” Elias said blandly, as he lined the syringe up.

“What is inside me, Elias?” Jon asked again, his voice layered with compulsion, just as Elias pushed the plunger down.

The sensation was different this time, his skin seeming to spark as he struggled to control his focus, eyes firmly on Elias. The syringe actually tumbled from Elias’s hand, and he reached out to steady himself on the table, breathing hard.

“I wouldn’t try that again, Jon. You don’t want to break my concentration.” He left the syringe where it had fallen, picking up a larger sound, and gripping Jon’s cock slightly too tightly in his hand as he lined it up. “But if you insist, then fine.” The sound slid in as before, the larger size not seeming to matter except in how Jon could feel it, his breath hitching as the metal seemed to stretch him just that bit further. All while he tried to keep his focus on Elias’s words. “There’s a statement inside you.”

“Ah—” He dug his teeth into his arm as Elias let the sound slip in far, far too quickly, the strange fullness suffusing his cock before he could properly process the intrusion. “Hilarious. Would you care to provide an answer that isn’t metaphorical?”

Again, Elias adjusted the angle of his cock, allowing the sound to get to its deepest point. Or perhaps not quite, given Jon remained on edge, waiting for it to brush against his prostate.

“It’s not metaphorical. I have no idea what you did—” He chose that moment to push into, forcing a moan from Jon’s lips as pleasure sparked along his cock, and deeper, feeding into itself as Elias began to stroke along the length. “—but there is magnetic tape inside you.”

Elias withdrew the sound a scant distance, and Jon tensed at the sudden pain. He was hard now, because of course he was, with Elias’s damn teasing and touching.

“That doesn’t make any sense. If it were something physical, the doctors—” He trailed off into a moan as Elias worked the sound back in, rubbing it in earnest against his prostate as Jon fought the urge to squirm, mostly succeeding and when he didn’t, stopped by the hand Elias had returned to his hip.

“The tape recorders are physical, and yet they seem to simply manifest. I believe this is likely operating similarly.” His hand left Jon’s hip, instead working along his shaft as he manipulated the sound inside Jon, the heat of it building to a point that left Jon gasping, not even bothering to try and muffle his moans anymore as both his hands grabbed at the sheet. Trying desperately to keep from moving too much as he stared up at his own body, all while trying to process what Elias was saying. “The context matters. It isn’t for the doctors. So it won’t show on their scans.”

Jon came suddenly, or thought he did as Elias kept up his attentions, continuing to work his hand over Jon’s cock, and the sound inside him. The head of Jon’s cock gleamed in the mirror, from the lube or come trickling out around the edges, it hardly mattered. The whole picture was obscene, Jon’s shirt rucking up, his hair in disarray, lips red and bitten. And the focal point, always the focal point, the instrument that Elias continued to torment him with.

But it couldn’t last, and just as before, Elias began to slide it out again, after he’d allowed Jon’s erection to flag. Throughout the process, Jon bit back whimpers, teeth digging into his lips as Elias briskly held his now oversensitive cock, finally pulling the sound free and sitting it aside. Leaving Jon to lie on the bed, limp again and wondering how much more of this he could take, staring up into the mirror as Elias scribbled into his little notebook.

When he’d finally returned to his senses enough to attempt to form words, Elias was turning back to him again, holding yet another bloody syringe. But even feeling as overwhelmed as he did, he couldn’t find it in himself to protest as Elias yet again filled him with the lube, and selected another sound from his tray.

“What do you mean the context matters? Why are you so special, that it would happen here?” He pushed himself up on his elbows, ignoring the raised eyebrow from Elias as he met his eyes, before his gaze slipped down to the sound. Not just larger, but— “Why is that one hollow?”

“Really, Jon, I’d think even you could figure that out.” He gripped Jon’s cock, not arguing about his position now as he lined this new sound up. “All of it, in fact. Though I suppose you are understandably distracted, so I can explain, if you’d prefer.”

“Please. It would make a welcome change,” Jon said, flopping back down onto the bed, gritting his teeth as his nerves sent off shocks of pain-pleasure as the sound began to breach him again.

“We share a patron. The other incidents you’ve had all occurred at the Institute, didn’t they?” He didn’t wait for Jon to respond, continuing to speak as he let the newest sound slip in. “My presence also draws that part of you. And as for why this one is hollow, well, I don’t imagine magnetic tape is exactly pleasant feeling along the inside of your cock.”

Jon's stomach twisted unpleasantly at the horrible, sharp burning he’d felt once or twice. Had that been the tape, trying to get out? He supposed he was lucky it wasn’t a full cassette tape, or—Christ, he really didn’t want to think about that.

The sound was clearly larger than before, the stretch over it even more obvious, enough to give Elias some difficulty. He frowned, grasping the skin on Jon’s cock and making him yelp as he stretched it, allowing the sound to slip in further.

“Please don’t break anything,” Jon said.

“I won’t. Though you would heal, you know.” He let out a ‘hmm’ of satisfaction as the sound stopped again, running his fingers along Jon’s shaft.

“I’d rather not experience it first hand.” As he continued to watch, Elias reached over to the table, one hand still holding the sound. When he turned back to Jon, he was holding a ring in his hand, to which he attached the sound, through some mechanism Jon couldn’t quite follow.

“There, that should hold for now.”

Much to Jon’s alarm, Elias let him go then, taking a step back and removing his gloves, before running a hand through his air. Jon carefully propped himself up on the bed, biting back a small noise as his cock was jostled, and the sound shifted inside him.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” Jon said, voice cracking. If Elias left him like this…

“Taking a break. Even at your age, I don’t imagine you’ll be able to come again quite so soon. And the force of ejaculation is what I hope will dislodge the tape.” He adjusted his trousers subtly, and for the first time, Jon realized that Elias wasn’t nearly as unaffected as he pretended, the outline of his cock clear through the fabric.

“And you need to deal with your own—” His hands flexed, and his eyes squeezed shut as he struggled to leverage himself up further.

Before he could get far, there was a hand on his chest, gently holding him down. He opened his eyes to see Elias from a different angle than before, to the side rather than in front of him. Smiling at Jon, far too fondly for his liking, as he lifted a hand to run it lightly down Jon’s cheek.

“I will admit, dealing with it should help my focus.”

It made sense, and as much as Jon wanted to shy away from the thought, he certainly hadn’t been unaffected by the proceedings himself. Could he truly blame Elias? Well, at least for this. Plenty to blame him for that had far less understandable causes.

Better to let him leave, to go off to another bedroom or the bathroom or wherever he wanted to wank. But even as Jon thought it, he found his heart beating faster at the idea of being left alone like this. Vulnerable, not just for what Elias had put inside him, but for what had been there before.

Christ, he hoped he didn’t regret this.

“You can stay.” He licked his lips, turning his gaze to Elias, whose face was annoyingly blank. “That is to say, I want you to stay.” Elias’s eyes crinkled at the corners, and before he could get any ideas, Jon added. “Because I told you I don’t want to be left like this.”

“Understandable,” Elias said, rubbing his thumb at the corner of Jon’s eye. Far too proprietary a touch for Jon’s taste, but he wasn’t really in a position to argue.

Elias came around to the other side of the bed, and Jon turned to face him. Watching with more interest than he’d care to admit, as Elias leaned back against the wall, opening his trousers and freeing his cock. It was…completely ordinary, average size and girth as far as Jon could tell, not terribly dissimilar from his own.

“Did you expect something different?” Elias said with a sideways glance, answering Jon’s unspoken thought.

“No,” Jon said quickly, hating the way Elias laughed softly at the blatant lie.

He continued to watch as Elias began to stroke himself, finger catching on and dragging at the foreskin. How long would it take, for him to come? It was a strange thought, one that made Jon shiver. One he tried to shy away from, because why did he care? Relentless pursuit of knowledge, or something worse. Darker, and far deeper in his psyche. A curiosity not about the abstraction of the man whose lips parted, letting out a small moan as his free hand moved to his balls to tug and massage them. But about Elias, who Jon had so often watched in the past.

Flushing, he tried to tear his gaze away. But doing so seemed uncomfortable—unnecessary—after all that had passed. Was this really any different, that what Elias had done to him? Observation, and the necessity of touch to a particular end. It only made sense he should see it through.

His breath caught as Elias’s eyes suddenly found his. Pale and wide and all too hungry, his hand working the shaft, toying with the head, rubbing across the slit in a way that made Jon’s own cock twitch in response. Aching as he felt the sound press inside him, as his cock slowly started to swell at the suggestion. Would Elias stretch, as he had, if Jon did the same to him? Thin rod of metal, keeping Elias entirely at his mercy for once. If he asked, would Elias agree?

“Yes,” Elias said, more breathless than Jon expected as he kept his eyes on Jon. “If you dare ask.”

Jon’s mouth worked, but nothing came from his throat. Neither the denial he still wanted to cling to, or the truth of the thoughts Elias had drawn to his head. And it hardly mattered anyway, not as Elias’s head tipped back, Adam’s apple bobbing as he gasped, and came into a handkerchief clutched in his hand.

For a minute, there was no sound but their mingled breathing, and the distant ticking of a clock. Had that been there before? But it didn’t matter. Jon had other concerns as Elias wiped up the remaining mess and tucked himself away, getting to his feet with a groan. Jon followed him with his eyes as best he could, as Elias returned to his former position, snapping on another pair of gloves standing at Jon’s feet.

“Let’s get to work, then.”

It was probably still too soon, particularly with two orgasms already, but Jon still found himself responding to Elias’s delicate touches. Like before, he’d slicked one hand with lube to ease the passage of the latex along Jon’s shaft, even as he gently toyed with and rubbed at the sensitive head. With the sound inside him, the largest one yet, it was all so much more. Intense, just the right side of painful as he struggled not to jerk into Elias’s loose grip.

And even then, how lovely it was to feel the touch of Elias’s hand, the pulsing of his cock around the metal, he still found himself longing for more. For that sensation of before, the sharp wells of pleasure drawn from inside him by the hooked sound. Would it fit inside this one? Probably not, the tube straight and not as easily adjusted as Jon’s cock. But there had to be a way, had to be something to pull that pleasure from him. And underneath it, that coiled, rotten pain.

Elias squeezed his cock, and Jon gasped, then moaned as he squeezed again, fingers pinching at the head. Even without the deeper sensations, it was still all too much, leaving him coming for a third time as Elias continued to stroke him.

As he came, he found himself staring intently at the ceiling. Searching for any sign of what Elias had promised, the tape nestled inside him. And—there. A hint of black amongst the white, one Elias caught and tugged, as Jon moaned, no longer sure if it was pleasure or pain.

It didn’t stop, even as his orgasm slowly ebbed, the tape being drawn inch by painful inch out of him, wound around Elias’s hand. He met his own eyes again, finding himself flushed with wide eyes and a shirt soaked through with sweat. He should’ve taken it off, but it was a distant concern now, fading in the face of Elias’s grin of triumph as he pulled the end of the tape free.

He set the tape aside, disposing of the gloves as he came around to Jon’s side. Leaning over him to press an all too unprofessional kiss to his brow, saying, “You did so well, Jon. Marvelously well.”

Jon licked his lips, struggling to find a way to respond as Elias crossed the room to the desk, and pulled out a ruler of all things. Then he returned to his former position, putting on another pair of gloves and measuring the tape against it. But even Jon could tell what was wrong, without knowing the numbers.

“It’s too short.”

Elias set the tape down, and smoothed a gentle hand over Jon’s leg.

“Yes. There’s still some missing. We’ll have to try again. But for now, I think you’ve earned some rest.” He removed the ring holding the sound, and began to work it free as Jon trembled.

Jon wanted to say no, that there must be some other way. Wanted to snap at Elias, that he was only tolerating this because he didn’t have another choice. Wished he could still cling to the lie, that he found the sight of Elias setting the sound aside, disposing of his gloves, and writing down his notes unpleasant.

But all he could think about was what else Elias might yet draw from inside him.


End file.
